mindlessly scrolling, I wait in the doctor’s office
I close my eyes
the melody playing softly
lifts me off the sticky leather seat, out of the lobby
eleven, standing in the music room, practicing my alto sax, tiny fingers, barely long enough to reach every key
sharp! b sharp!
he corrects me from the living room davenport
I blush, embarrassed at my fumble
I start from the top, try to get every note right
I want to impress him with how much I’ve been practicing
no, no! more vibrato! you’re ruining it
fingers flail awkwardly
the door pushes open
he huffs and pretends to be upset
house slippers and ascot cap, holding his tenor sax
“okay, let’s take it from the top”
fingers dance purposefully across the keys, he closes his eyes
I smile, blessed with the sound
the door creaks open again
Grandma smiles, taking a break from cooking dinner to join me and Grandpa
she takes her place at the piano bench and just when I thought it couldn’t possibly get any better, she adds
there are lyrics to this song but they aren’t necessary
nothing could make this moment better
kaitlyn? the doctor will see you now
not now, please. can’t you see we’re busy?
just let me have my song.
open my eyes.
In Memory of Ernest Charles Edwards (1919-2017)